


Pin Dom

by threewalls



Category: KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Alcohol, Community: kink_bingo, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Enthusiastic Consent, Exhibitionism, Fingerfucking, Future Fic, Genderplay, Host Clubs, M/M, Makeup, Mirrors, One of My Favorites, Performative Heterosexuality, Prostitution, Reunions, Roleplay, Sadism, Spanking, With Clothes On
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-31
Updated: 2011-03-31
Packaged: 2017-10-17 09:38:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threewalls/pseuds/threewalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <cite>Jin hasn't asked what Kamenashi thinks he's doing; Aquaneesha doesn't care. Kamenashi-san's wallet stuffed full of high denomination yen simplifies everything beautifully, and so does the Dom Perignon.</cite>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pin Dom

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to katmillia for cheer-leading and lynndyre for beta-reading.

Kamenashi strips his blazer, folding it over the edge of the booth and unfastens his shirt-cuffs, turning just as he finishes his left, catching Jin watching through the curtain of his fringe. Kamenashi looks like someone's idea of a player: charcoal suit, blue shirt, and the hint of metal shining at his ear and at his throat. He knows he's worth looking at.

"Make yourself comfortable," Kamenashi suggests, his smile pleasant and predatory.

Jin doesn't give him the satisfaction of looking away, and adjusts his lavender shawl to sit more firmly across his shoulders. The way Kamenashi is looking at him makes Jin want to strip.

Aquaneesha's dress is all white except for the wide golden belt wrapping around below the bust, richly pleated fabric (and well-concealed corsetry) shaping Jin into a different version of himself. Like Sasha Fierce and Beyoncé. Jin keeps catching himself touching his hair, twirling his fingers in it. His hair's getting so long that Jin doesn't usually have it down, but it feels good like this, soft against the sides of his face. It helps him stay in character: the girl who sings but doesn't host, breaking her own goddamn rules tonight because idols don't ask you twice.

Jin sings here because it's discreet, and the boss lady is taller than Jin even when she's wearing flats. He's been coming here for two years. He thought the drive would go once he started having solo cons, once he went solo, but it's just a different drive now. He can sing here if he wants to, and Jin wants to, so he does.

Jin's never seen Kamenashi here before, but why this lounge is obvious: it's classy and it's expensive. He sees Kamenashi sometimes at the Jimusho, passing in the corridor, when they're both in the country. Jin doesn't think they've talked for longer than ten minutes since Pi's birthday, months ago, and they haven't fucked around since before Kamenashi was legal to drink. Jin hasn't asked what Kamenashi thinks he's doing; Aquaneesha doesn't care. Kamenashi-san's wallet stuffed full of high denomination yen simplifies everything beautifully, and so does the Dom Perignon.

Jin made Kamenashi order it pink, just to see him wrinkle his wine snob nose, because it's the most expensive drink they have, forty thousand yen a bottle before the mark-up. It's sweet and it's sticky; Jin likes seeing the mark of his lipstick on the rim of his glass. Maybe he can blame the fluttery feeling along his skin on the bubbles.

Kamenashi pulls the table over in front of the Karaoke machine, out of the way, his shirt pulling tight over the muscles of his shoulders. Jin sips his glass empty as he watches, wondering if Kamenashi's making room to dance. When he's done, Kamenashi only dims the lights and sits down in the middle of the padded seat of the booth, pats his lap with both hands.

"Come here."

"In your lap?" Jin checks himself, finding himself already stepping forward.

"Over my lap."

Kamenashi leans back, arms casually outstretched along the back of the booth. Kamenashi's licking at his lip, quick darts at the side of his mouth, moisture glistening in the low light. That decides Jin, that Kamenashi's not just fucking with him. Not in any ways that Jin would complain about.

Jin's ass still tingles from the slap Kamenashi gave him on the stairs, after steadying Jin and pushing him forward, telling Jin to save it for the very expensive private Karaoke room Kamenashi had already paid for. This room. Jin's hands are already holding his skirt, so that he won't trip like he did on the stairs. Easy enough to raise the hem higher and higher, just enough so that the fabric doesn't catch under his knees when Kamenashi guides Jin to settle perched beside him.

Kamenashi's eyelevel to Aquaneesha's bust. He doesn't look unhappy about that at all. He reaches up behind Jin's back, fingers tangling in the fine weave of his shawl.

"May I?"

"Please take care of me," Jin says, meaning to make a joke of it, the white dress, being too big, too tall. His face feels hot. It's already an awkward angle, but it's worse when Aquaneesha really wishes she could lean _up_ to be kissed.

Kamenashi pulls and Jin shrugs, and he can feel the shawl falling onto his calves, his hair loose on the back of his neck, Kamenashi's hand hard and strong at the middle of Jin's back-- and then suddenly Jin's got his hands out to catch his fall, arched like a sex kitten over Kamenashi's lap.

Jin is startled by his own face in the mirrored wall around the booth, Aquaneesha's face, black mascara and black-blue-purple shadow, blusher accenting his cheekbones. It feels like just another costume when he dresses up for Aquaneesha, distance and misdirection, so that he can get up there and sing whatever he wants. But right now, Aquaneesha doesn't feel like someone else. It's Jin's own face in the mirror, his own mouth darkened with lipstick, smooth and waxy, a texture Jin can still feel when he looks away.

Jin has to shift onto one hand to tuck his hair behind his ear. Over his shoulder, he can see Kamenashi only in profile, the sharp crescent of his teeth, but it's easy to know where he's looking. Kamenashi's hand is on Jin's back, strokes that start high, but get lower, lower, until his fingers are playing just under the hem of Jin's rucked up skirt, teasing the sensitive inner bend of his knees. For just a moment, Jin wishes he'd worn stockings and heels instead of strappy sandals, something classic and slutty, maybe with a garter belt, but that hadn't coordinated with the Mediterranean look. But then Kamenashi's hand is only whispering over along shaved smooth skin, taking the skirt up with it, and it's not Kamenashi's face that Jin's watching in the mirror behind him.

Aquaneesha's panties are aqua with black lace trim and bows, a shock of colour concealed by the thick pleats of his skirt. They're the kind that get called "boy cut", which Jin buys because he thinks they look best on his ass. Kamenashi's hands look good on Jin, fingers petting, stroking. Maybe Jin should be making Kamenashi work harder for it, but it feels too good.

"The walls are sound-proofed," Jin says. "For the karaoke."

"Then you won't have any trouble being loud," Kamenashi says. He slides a finger under the elastic of Jin's panties, a light touch, a tease. They have this room for hours yet, but Jin isn't feeling as patient.

"Come on," he says, because subtle is clearly wasted on Kamenashi. "What are you waiting for?"

Kamenashi snaps the elastic, making Jin gasp.

"You're a big girl, Aquaneesha-san," Kamenashi says, and fuck if the honorific doesn't go straight to Jin's dick. "If you want me to spank you, I think you can pull your own panties down."

"Pervert."

"Slut." Jin can hear the grin in Kamenashi's voice.

Jin tries to sit up, but Kamenashi puts a hand on his back, keeping Jin from rising. He struggles on one-handed, quickly giving up on elegant for effective, ass in the air and head down for balance. He's reaching behind, blindly yanking the fabric down, trying not to leave lipstick smears on the seat or think too hard about how he must look. Jin can feel Kamenashi's eyes watching his every wriggle.

"That's enough."

Kamenashi pulls Jin's hand away before Jin has his panties down much further than the curve of his ass. His dick is still caught up in the fabric, which may be the point. Jin has to keep his knees together, lady-like and hiding his junk, or his panties will inch back up.

Kamenashi says: "Are you ready?"

"I've been ready for the last-- _Fuck!_ "

\--because that baseball upper body strength Kamenashi keeps showing off in performances isn't just for show.

"All right?" Kamenashi says, sounding too casual, and he repeats the question again, until Jin nods, yes.

Kamenashi's a tease, like always. He hits without a rhythm. Some are as hard as the first, some are less, alternating where and how hard he strikes. Jin's never been into pain, not for itself, but there's the hit and the hurt and somehow there's a rush that comes after. Aquaneesha's loving being laid out bare-assed over Kamenashi-san's lap, but there's something about taking this, proving that Jin can take whatever Kame can dish out.

Even with the rush, it's hard taking it, hard staying still. Kame's hand fucking hurts. His strikes layer up, and the seat is leather, smooth so that Jin's knees, his elbows slip, his hands fist-- there's nothing to hold onto. Harder than taking it, harder than not kicking, is keeping his hands down. Kame slaps Jin's hand away the first time, clucks his tongue the next, and then Kame has Jin's right arm bent back and pinned, and it's suddenly so, so much easier.

Easier because Jin can rock against Kame's thigh, his body down and belly flush against the growing bulge in Kame's pants. No matter how hard Jin struggles now, it only wriggles his ass side to side.

"Too much for you?" Kame asks.

"Is that all you've got?"

Kame yanks Jin's panties down to his knees. Strikes to Jin's thighs and his helpless, uncoordinated squirming slips them down to Jin's ankles, tangling with his sandal straps when his ankles kick. Somewhere in between slaps from his ass all the way down the tender inside of his thighs, Jin's spread his knees as wide as the seat goes. Kame hits between Jin's legs, hits his balls, and that's the first time Jin screams.

Jin feels the hot weight of Kame's hand on his hair, and for several thudding heartbeats, just breathes. Then he raises his head, pushes up his ass, lets Kame position him for the next stroke. Jin hears Kame say: "good girl," and a sob catches in Jin's throat.

His eyes are watering, mascara streaking, just a little though it's not supposed to, and his pupils are so wide that his eyes look black. Mouth open, hair falling to frame his face, Jin looks so much like a girl that there's nothing else he has to do, just writhe under the strikes of Kame's hand and cry out. His ass hurts and his shoulder aches and Jin can't believe how pretty he looks.

"You look beautiful," Kame tells him, and Jin finds Kame's eyes in the mirror, watching his face.

Kame's voice is low, husky, as the tips of his fingers run along the bruises that Jin knows will be coming up purple tomorrow. "So eager."

"Yeah," Jin sighs.

It takes a few moments of shivering into Kame's careful, light touches for Jin to realise that this isn't a pause. This is what comes next.

"Going to fuck me now?"

Kame laughs, his chin into his chest and his dick into Jin's stomach. Jin grins, rolling a stretch from his hips to his toes. He doesn't feel like the other side of a beating. Jin feels like someone slipped him something, something good.

Kame unbends Jin's arm, rubbing at his shoulder a few times. Jin folds that arm with the other under his chin, a more stable pose to watch Kame messing around with jacket pockets. He uncaps something that smells of strawberries.

"Always prepared," Jin says.

"Lucky for you."

Jin's voice breaks on his retort, on the smooth too good push of one of Kame's fingers. Jin moves with the motion, slow, tight pressure against the hard muscle of Kame's thigh and the tremors that come with clenching around Kame's finger. Jin thinks he lost his hard-on somewhere back there, but that's not important. It's also not a problem now.

"More."

"Greedy," Kame says, but Jin's persistent. When Jin's this relaxed, he can take two of his own fingers with just spit. He's damn well having more of Kame and his silky smooth strawberry lube that makes everything slide in so easy.

"That's three now," Kame says, as if Jin can't feel the way he's moving them against each other, the slide and bump and stretch. Jin is rocking his hips to meet the thrust of Kame's hand, angling for deeper.

"More."

"Really? You-- All right, can you can take this?"

Kame's other hand tastes of strawberries, too, and Jin's mouth can fit three fingers straight off, stretching his lips wide. Kame's thumb strokes the line of Jin's cheek as he thrusts. Jin lets his eyelids fall closed. There's no good angle to see himself like this. Kame's hands move at the same tempo, the same tempo as Jin's hips. Jin raises his tongue, finds the pads of Kame's fingers, hollows his cheeks and sucks.

"Aka--" Kame's voice stutters. "Oh, Aqua-chan likes that, fucked from both ends."

Jin does. When Kame says things like that, Jin doesn't need to see himself to know what he looks like. It's all in Kame's voice, the filthy, dirty, delicious things he now can't seem to stop saying about this girl, about what Jin looks like, what he feels like and what he'll take. The way he's tightening up just taking Kame's fingers, getting close just listening to Kame talk about the whore Aquaneesha is, the tricks she knows, the other men, the rapid patter of Jin's heartbeat, inside, around Kame, so that Kame knows how much Aquaneesha likes the idea of anyone fucking her, anyone Kamenashi wants, men she can't see. How much she's loving this, spitted open and wriggling over Kame's lap. How much she wants to be down on her knees with Kamenashi's cock in her mouth. Jin imagines looking up, seeing himself reflected in Kame's eyes. He comes nearly choking on Kame's fingers.

Kame pulls out fast, smearing lipstick across Jin's cheek. Jin coughs through the aftershocks, Kame's fingers in his ass still milking him, still there, holding him stretched open. When he pulls those ones out, it's only a pause to re-coat and push back in.

Jin's boneless, the side of his face pillowed on his arms. Kame's petting Jin's hair and something very, very hard is still poking up into Jin's stomach. It's nice, and Jin could almost nap like this, except that Kame's fingers are still twisting inside him and since Jin's just come, three stubby fingers feel like a lot more.

He and Kame didn't used to fuck much, back then, when they were messing around. They didn't usually last long enough. He remembers that with Kame, there was this short space between getting turned on and coming, just this tiny, tiny window of Kame wanting anything in his ass (the one time Jin remembers timing it right left Jin wearing Kame's pearl necklace). Kame said it felt weird the rest of the time, that it sort of burned. Jin thinks he finally knows what Kame meant. But even though it feels weird, Jin can feel his hips picking up Kame's rhythm, wanting more sensation. Jin groans.

"Did you think I would be finished with you already?"

"I thought you liked foreplay," Jin answers. "A lot. _Fuck_ , why won't you just fuck me already?"

"Think you can get it up again?"

"Uh--ngh--" It's hard thinking around the twisty thing Kame is doing with his knuckles. "I don't know. Maybe?"

Ok, not the right answer; Kame pulls out. "Can you stand up?"

Jin pushes his hair out of his face, struggles to his elbows. Kame is wiping his fingers with wetwipes from his manbag. Which, no, no, no.

"Now you're in a hurry? Look, just give me fifteen, ok?"

Getting back onto his knees, sitting on his calves is even more of a struggle. Jin nearly falls sideways off the seat except for Kame reaching out to steady him.

"Don't stop yet," Jin says.

Kame's breath smells of mint and if Jin leans forward any further, their noses will be touching.

"I want you to fuck me."

"Did I say I was stopping?" Kame asks. "A gentlemen sees to a lady's pleasure before taking his own. You got yours. This is mine."

Jin stares at the wrapped condom Kame is holding up.

"Oh," he says. "OK, then."

Kame stands up from the booth, slipping shirt-buttons from their holes one-handed, tugging the tails of his shirt from the waistband of the pants. He looks smug and perfect and his hair only that little bit artfully tousled. Jin wants to suck on the wet patch on Kame's pants, but he doesn't trust his legs to hold if he tried to stand up.

"Face the mirror," Kame says, and when Jin has managed that, leaning braced against the glass, Kame adds: "Hold up your skirt."

Jin watches, in the mirror, as Kame finally unbuckles his belt.

That's as undressed as Kame gets, strip of bare chest between the edges of his shirt, and his dick sticking out of pants. Jin's already slick and so relaxed, so it's more a matter of angles than anything, Kame nudging Jin's knees wider, his hands on Jin's hips.

"All right?" Kame asks.

He pushes Jin's hands up to the small of his back, pinned between their bodies, still clutching fistfuls of the fabric of his own skirt. Ok, sure, Jin's bruised ass aches, but nothing's as important as the first slow, sweet, stretch that means that Kame's finally, finally fucking him.

Right from the start, it's hard, fast strokes, the kind Jin can relax into. The streaks of sweat and breath are the least of what Jin's leaving on the mirror. Jin's make up is wrecked, but he's too close to the glass to see himself as anything but a moving shadow. Over Jin's shoulder, Kame's collarbones glisten like he's sweating glitter. He moves Jin's hips with his eyes closed, changing the angle on any random stroke until he finds the one he likes, the one he keeps, the one that lets him bottom out, fucking Jin deep.

"What is your schedule like tomorrow?"

" _Wha--?_

Kame's hand snakes quick in Jin's hair, pulling.

"In Japanese, Akanishi."

Kame's so fucking hot when he gets bossy. Jin's nipples are tight, rubbing against the corset boning every bounce on Kame's dick. Jin doesn't know how Kame can think like this, let alone keep talking.

"What, I, _fuck_ , uh, I, tomorrow--"

Kame yanks, forcing Jin's neck to arch. It should hurt, but Jin just moans.

"--Tomorrow, I got nothing. I'm sleeping until--ngh!"

Jin's body jerks, but it's not him coming, it's Kame, muscles strung taut against Jin's back, sounds muffled by his teeth sunk deep in Jin's neck. It's Kame's round, and, _fuck_ , Jin realises he doesn't even care if he gets to come again.

Kame is a gentleman. He lets Jin know before he pulls out, deals with the condom. If this were a hotel, there would be a bathroom, with fluffy towels, with running water. They make do with wet-wipes and tissues from Kame's manbag. Somehow, it's harder to meet Kame's eyes while he's attentively wiping away the ruins of Aquaneesha's make-up from Jin's face than when he's cleaning up the lube smeared up Jin's crack.

Jin lets himself get pulled into Kame's lap, Jin's head against Kame's chest, Jin's skirts back down to cover his legs. Kame's shirt is off, folded up somewhere so that it won't get creases, but he's cleaned up his dick and re-done his fly. He feels wonderfully solid. Jin has no idea where his panties are. He decides he's ok with buying new ones. They both smell like the sex they've just had.

Kame's doing that thing where he pets Jin's hair again. "Are you all right?" he asks. Jin nods without opening his eyes.

Jin must doze off or something, because suddenly Kame's talking about getting up, the time. Aquaneesha doesn't wear a watch. Jin only knows his set finished at one. Kame helps Jin stand, holding onto Jin's hands until his legs remember what it is they do.

Jin thanks Kame when he hands Jin his shawl, wraps up his shoulders. Without his heart going a thousand beats a minute, it's getting cold. Kame runs his fingers through his hair a few times and shucks his shirt back on. It's not as fun to watch in reverse. There's a darkening purple mark on Jin's neck. It sort of aches when Jin touches it, not as much as he expects.

Jin catches Kame watching him, and Kame starts babbling on about ice and Echinacea, as if Jin has never looked after his own bruises before.

"What do you want to do now?" Jin asks.

Kame opens his mouth, but then says nothing.

"What?" Jin asks. "I can barely walk. If you want to invite some other guys round, talk to Coco about another appointment."

"What I said, you know I wouldn't-- I don't think of you as a--"

"Yeah," Jin says, "but it was hot hearing about it."

This doesn't stop the flush creeping up Kame's neck.

"So, uh, you come here, often?"

It's the dumbest thing Jin can think to say, but it gets him the laugh he was looking for.

"You've never looked at the VIP guest list, have you?" Kame says, which is not an answer, and then: "It was April." He glances to the side, his lips forming words Jin can't hear. "Nineteen months. The first few times were a coincidence, but now Coco gets someone to text me when you're having a set."

Kame picks up his blazer off the back of the booth, shaking it out and slipping it over his arms.

"Apparently I tip more, when Aquaneesha's on stage."

Jin touches his hair; he desperately needs a brush. But his shoulder straps stayed up all the way through -- this corset, clearly A++-- and you'd have to lift his skirt to tell that he was going commando. He still wants a shower, like, fifteen minutes ago.

"I thought you didn't go for girls," Jin says.

"Only the really pretty ones." Kame shrugs, halfway through buttoning up his shirt, and tilts his head to look up at Jin through his eyelashes. It makes him look younger, coy, and makes Jin's chest tight. It's a move Jin knows, too.

He walks up to Kame, leans in, and just stops.

"You think I'm pretty?" Jin asks.

Kame is staring at Jin's mouth, but he looks up into Jin's eyes to say: "Yes."

Jin leans forward, letting Kame slide his hands up into Jin's hair, letting Kame lick open Jin's mouth.

Jin liked Kame fucking him, back then. He used to worry about liking it. He worried about a lot of things. Stupid things. Like what his friends thought of Jin wanting to spend so much time with a kid who couldn't go clubbing yet, who wouldn't go clubbing with them, not even after Jin got him a fake ID.

_"Why don't you want to just come over and watch DVDs? You keep saying that Yamashita-kun is your best friend. Uchi-kun got suspended. Do you even care if we debut?"_

Jin remembers discovering that the darkness, the smoke and strobe lights made him brave, made him think about sitting in a booth at the back, leaning his head on Kame's shoulder. He doesn't remember ever telling Kame that.

Jin slides his arms around Kame's neck, tipping his head back and letting Kame have his mouth, until the tension in Kame's shoulders start to melt away.

Jin knows fantastic sex doesn't fix everything, won't fix five years and change of looking away when they laughed together, when they caught each other's eyes, when it felt too good, too nostalgic, too easy to imagine being friends again tomorrow, like nothing had happened. He and Kame never talked about what they were doing. They didn't break up; they weren't dating. They stopped hanging out and pretended they'd never been that close.

Kame's hands have slid down Jin's back, resting at his waist. Jin's head is on Kame's shoulder, Kame's nose in Jin's hair. They could dance like this, just swaying, the way old people do. It would be easy.

"So, what _do_ you want?" Jin asks. "It's got to be tamer than a gangbang."

Kame exhales, he drops his arms and steps back. "I want to make you breakfast," he says, pressing his teeth into his lip before smiling at Jin, tight and brief. "But I don't think that's the best idea, Jin."

Jin swallows, nods. He can see that. Nothing's this easy.

"Um-- but what about a raincheck," he says. "Maybe do coffee first. Hang out?"

"Or get drinks?" Kame suggests. "Sometime?"

"D'you want my--"

"Can I give you my--"

"--phone number," they say, at the same time.

Fantastic sex doesn't fix anything, sure, but maybe Jin's not the only one wishing it did.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration for [Aquaneesha's outfit](http://media.animevice.com/uploads/2/20763/366453-_animepaper.net_picture_standard_anime_one_piece_128_130_38037_isky_preview_23772310_super.jpg) and for [Kame's](http://www.animewallpapershd.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/Sanji-One-Piece-1-Anime-Wallpapers-1024x768.jpeg).


End file.
